Traitor
by Feenacanyon
Summary: A series following largely Imperial Agents/Intelligence workers in the universe of SWTOR. Incorporates some events/characters of the game but is largely original. Main characters are Roeamara Tanteo, Chaun'rieth'mur, and Veatro Pollerman.
1. Chapter 1

"Pol!"

Veatro looked up at his nickname. Bailey was waving him over. Veatro left the crate he'd been sitting reading on and crossed the open circle between the tents to reach Bailey's tent. The man himself had ducked inside it.

"What's up, Jaik?" Veatro asked as he pushed the flap back. Tomlin and Miles Theadore, the newest member, were there as well.

"We needed a forth, keep things even." Bailey grinned up from his seat on one of the sleeping bags. Veatro slid down to sit cross-legged next to him.

"You're gonna regret getting me." He shot Bailey a mischievous grin.

"He's gonna regret this whole thing. But I'm not! I'm gonna be setup for my anniversary. Thank you very much, gentlemen, for paying for it." Tomlin bowed his head to the group.

"Wait, I forget, is it low beats high, or high beats low? Or is that a house rule?" Theadore shifted the order of cards in his hand again.

"Oh for—you don't remember?" Tomlin leaned over and started sorting Theadore's hand for him.

"Tomlin,stop cheating on the inexperienced one." Bailey reached across and shoved Tomlin back and took Theadore's cards.

"Aww you're re-dealing? And I had such a good hand." Veatro turned in his cards.

"Uhhuh, sure you did." Bailey gave his own coy look.

"You'd better not be stacking the deck, pigeon." Tomlin leaned back and started cooing, though it devolved into snickering.

Bailey gave him a look. "That was ONE time."

Tomlin reached over to move his helmet so he could rest his elbow on it.

"So far." Veatro put in.

"I know how to make an owl call now okay? Leave off!" Bailey punched Veatro's arm as he withdrew from handing him his cards.

"Owl sounds?" Theadore piped in.

"Nobody open their mouth!" Bailey glowered at Tomlin who had already leaned over to Theadore.

"Are we gonna start actually playing at some point or are you all just afraid of being broke tomorrow?" Veatro was left of the dealer and so drew the first card.

"I'll send nice pictures of me and Lucy on the beach next month." Tomlin drew next.

"Nobody wants to see your vacation pictures, Rio." Bailey made a disgusted sound.

"What beach?" Theadore asked.

"Miles!" Veatro and Bailey both yelled at him.

—-

"Don't strain yourself, Pidge." Tomlin called down as he walked past with a crate in hand.

"Don't trip and die!" Bailey shot back up.

Veatro adjusted his grip on the box he and Bailey were lifting and looked back over his shoulder to start backing up the stairs.

"Is this supposed to go to site A, or site G?" Theadore turned the holopad in his hand slightly and squinted at the lists. Tomlin paused and leaned over his shoulder to look at the datapad himself.

"Sergeant Tomlin." Gill marched up and saluted.

Tomlin returned it, barely. "Yea?"

"Is Pollerman nearby? The Captain is looking for him."

Tomlin raised an eyebrow and walked over to the edge of the pit.

"Yo Pol, you hear that?"

"Yes, sir." Veatro finished backing up the steep stairs and set the crate down before following Gill back to the temporary command tent.

Veatro saluted and came to attention.

"Thank you, Corporal, dismissed." Captain Mosley directed and Gill withdrew.

"At ease, Pollerman. This is Dedrick Beins." Mosley gestured at the man standing across the table from him. "He'd like to requisition you for an operation."

"That sounds awfully boring." Dedrick spoke up. He smiled at Veatro.

"I heard from a colleague that you're quite the shot. I'm here to ask if you'd put your talent to use for us for a job."

"Us?" Veatro asked.

"SIS. I'm agent Beins." Dedrick nodded slightly.

Veatro looked over at Mosley.

"A little in and out job, not a permanent transfer or anything, Private."

"If you're willing to give up some of your break. I know this battalion is being relieved in a couple weeks." Dedrick said.

"I assume any details are not available until I commit?" Veatro asked.

"That is unfortunately a standard procedure for us." Dedrick smiled.

Veatro thought a moment then nodded.

"If you think I'm best suited. I'll do whatever I can."

"Excellent. It'll be an adventure. Who knows? Maybe you'll like it with us?" Dedrick winked.

"Don't go tempting away my troops again, Beins." Mosley said with familiarity.

"I wouldn't dream of it." He turned to Veatro. "I'll have the final briefing prepared for you in the morning, Private Pollerman. Obviously, don't discuss this with anyone. I look forward to working with you." Beins gave a quick, semi-formal salute and Mosley dismissed him.

—-

Veatro adjusted the pack on his belt as he walked a few feet behind Beins. It was becoming dark and they closed ranks a bit.

"So is this usual for you?" Veatro asked.

"Hmm? What?"

"Missions like this?" Veatro asked.

"You mean out in the middle of nowhere, or taking out Imperials?"

Veatro shrugged though Beins hadn't turned.

"Both, either."

Dedrick gave his little laugh that Veatro had become familiar with in the two-day trip to this planet.

"Both are within the realm of normality, I would say."

"How'd you get into this?" Veatro asked.

"I'm afraid the truth is classified. But I can tell you the lovely and highly entertaining story I was given for that question." Beins turned over his shoulder to catch Veatro's reaction.

He shrugged and grinned a bit cockily as he pulled out his canteen. "Hey, if it'll give me a good story for the guys when I get back, I'm game."

—–

Veatro adjusted his position slightly. Again. Beins apparently had only a general idea of when their target was going to arrive at the camp, and Veatro and he had gotten into position earlier then his anticipated arrival as it was in order to prep. The spot was good, and honestly it wasn't the most uncomfortable by far that Veatro had waited in, but it was now the longest.

Beins gave a barely audible sigh.

"Tired?" Veatro teased.

Beins gave him a wry smile. "I'm just ready to be done with the mission and get back."

Veatro nodded slightly in agreement.

"Yea I'd like a little R&R before getting stuck back with the squad for another deployment." Beins didn't reply, bringing up something on his holopad. Veatro gave his full attention back to his scope.

Close to another hour passed and Veatro began to consider that they might have to spend another night waiting. Normally the prospect wouldn't bother him, but camping out for no purpose other than shooting one specific person was a new experience, and he wasn't completely comfortable with it. Especially when the person wasn't technically an enemy. Yet. That had been Beins main point when discussing the mission parameters with Veatro on the way in. This General was having talks with the Empire to join them. The military on this planet favored the Empire over the Republic – not entirely in line with the opinions of the people, according to Beins. Letting this man shift the balance of power in this sector in the Empire's favor couldn't be allowed, so he had to be stopped from coming to any agreement with the Empire.

Veatro's thoughts were interrupted as, finally, something happened in his field of vision. Not their target; but the Imperial forces were now in sight. He reported the sight to Beins, who moved up next to him to take a look. A few more minutes brought the local forces into view from another direction as well. Just shy of a klick apart. Veatro adjusted the sight on his rifle so he could better see the approaching militia. They were still in a relatively thick part of the forest and Veatro couldn't get eyes on his specific target, but after a few minutes of the two groups, who were yet unaware of their proximity, the local forces came out of the thicker trees towards the meeting building. Veatro tensed his shoulders slightly as he caught sight of who he was looking for.

"I see him." Veatro sensed rather than saw Beins nodding motion on his left. Beins then slid back on the hill and got behind the trunk of the tree he'd been using as a backrest previously. He didn't want to crowd Veatro while he was lining up his shot. "At your leisure, private."

A couple silent minutes passed before Veatro was satisfied with the angle he had.

"…I've got him…" Vetro pulled the trigger, and his rifle made one slight, quick movement back as it released the bolt. Another second of silence. "Clean kill, agent." Veatro reported and lowered the weapon.

"Nice work, soldier." Beins stood.

Veatro adjusted his elbows as he laid the rifle down and prepared to get up so they could get the hell out of there. He felt something hard and cold pressing against the back of his head. His eyes darted to the right as he began to turn and look back, but he never completed the motion.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Veatro felt was weight. He felt heavy. He opened his eyes, or tried to. The feeling of weight was especially heavy on the right side of his face, it felt like there was something pressing against his skin. Everything was numb. And it was dark. He blinked, so far as he could; still dark. A panicked knot was forming in his stomach. He moved to sit up but even lifting his head took more energy than he had.

"Uewwn, fetch Fierro please" A voice said on his right. Veatro's heart rate jumped at the sound and he became suddenly dizzy as a result, along with a shot of pain in his head.

"Hello there." The statement was accompanied by the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.

"W-here…" Moving his jaw felt oddly stiff, and he didn't finish the question.

"Our scouts found you in the forest and brought you back to base for medical attention. I'm Doctor Shelton."

A doctor. Well, that was somewhat comforting.

"I—s dark." Veatro managed, though moving to talk still felt off. He ran his tongue along the side of his mouth, something was wrong but he wasn't sure exactly what was different through the numbness.

"Ah. Yes." A pause. "You were shot."–Veatro felt the man's hand move from his shoulder to the back of his head–"at close range in the back right side of your skull. I'm afraid it's physically damaged your right eye and the nerve connections to your left." The hand withdrew. Veatro blinked more rapidly this time; trying to absorb what he'd just heard. The panicked feeling that had subsided slightly at the man's introduction as a doctor came roaring back and Veatro tried to sit up, more intently this time. He made it up enough that his back was off the bed before he was stopped; his arms wouldn't come up. His wrists were strapped to the bed. He couldn't stay upright long enough to attempt anything to remedy this and fell back into laying down as Shelton spoke quickly.

"Please don't try to move around. You may exacerbate your injuries."

There was a metallic sound before Veatro could say anything else.

"Fierro." Shelton greeted someone.

"Doctor Shelton." Another voice responded.

Fierro was asking something about if Veatro was in a condition to answer questions.

Veatro wanted to listen to them but he was also still reeling from what Shelton had just told him. He could feel tears burning in his eye and was trying to gain mobility to pull at the restraints as if to reach up and wipe them away; his brain didn't bother thinking through the futility of that action.

A hand was on his left shoulder this time, firmer.

"I'm Captain Fierro. Our scouts found you in the woods a few days ago and brought you back to base for medical attention. Can you explain who you are and what happened to you?" The man asked.

"I'm—Private Veatro…Pollerman. I was—on a mission with Agent Beins." Veatro paused as his mind sorted through what he was trying to say. Beins…he'd shot him. Veatro had felt the blaster barrel; it wasn't a distance shot. Beins must have done it. He'd been behind Veatro, at the tree. No one could have snuck up behind Veatro without Beins seeing. Why? If he wanted the mission to fail—Fierro cut into his thoughts.

"Agents Beins?" he asked.

"Beins—SIS. He–recruited me. He did this. He's a traitor." Veatro tried to sit up again but was held back by both Fierro and Shelton.

"Calm down, Private." Shelton said softly from his side. His hands vanished and once Veatro stopped pushing against Fierro he also let go.

"Private, you're telling me that you were working with an SIS agent and he did this to you?" Fierro reiterated.

Veatro frowned, sort of, and nodded stiffly.

"I don't know—"He stopped to take a breath. Taking deep enough breaths to talk for any length of time was difficult "—why. We need to catch him."

There was another pause.

"Have you thought about why Beins would shoot you, Private?" Fierro asked.

"He was covering…" Veatro trailed off. Would Beins try to cover up the mission on his own? Or had he been ordered to? Should Veatro be talking about this to this Captain Fierro?

"He was covering the mission up. Making sure you wouldn't tell anyone about it." Fierro finished. "So what was the mission, Private?" Fierro asked.

Veatro was silent.

"If this Beins tried to cover up the mission by killing you Private, we should know about it so we can deal with him." Fierro coaxed.

Veatro sighed. He might get in trouble, but Beins would too. And Beins certainly deserved to have the military come after him.

"Beins borrowed me from my squad for a covert op. He…didn't give details till we landed here. He—wanted me to take out a General in the local military." Veatro winced, something in his jaw was pinching with all the talking. "He was meeting with Imperial forces to talk about an al…liance. After I confirmed the kill—Beins shot me." His speech had become more difficult as he went on and he felt Dr. Shelton, presumably, doing something on his right side.

"I see." Fierro took a couple steps away in thought.

"I know I'm probably in trouble too but—get him." Veatro turned his head slightly in what he presumed was towards Fierro.

"Have no doubt of that, Private. I need to make my report, Doctor, excuse me." Fierro withdrew.

—-

Veatro was sitting up, with some assistance from nurse Uewwn. Veatro was listening to the sound of rain against the windows or roof – he couldn't tell which – and absently twisting his left hand in its restraint and wondering just how much trouble we was in. He heard the door open and expected to hear Dr. Shelton's voice, but it was the captain's.

"Uewwn, you're dismissed."

"Yes, sir." The sound of the door closing.

"Private Pollerman." The captain had evidently moved to somewhere at the end of the bed.

"Captain Fierro?" Veatro asked for confirmation.

"Yes."

Veatro supposed that was as much as he was going to get. Fierro sounded serious. Maybe he was here to tell him that he was going to be court martialed for following Beins' plan at all.

"I'm curious, Private, do you think Beins did what he did all on his own? That it was his idea?" Fierro asked.

Veatro almost winced at the sharp tone.

"You mean….do I think whoever his superiors are in the SIS, that they ordered him to do it?" Veatro had considered the idea. He'd been laying in the medical bed for what felt like at least a day since speaking to Fierro; many thoughts had occurred to him regarding Beins and the mission in that time.

"Yes. What do you think it will mean for you if the SIS finds out you're still alive?" Fierro paced away from the bed.

Veatro frowned as he repressed the wave of fear that line of thinking brought. "You think they'd still want me dead."

"I'm quite sure of it. You tell Republic command what happened and the SIS will deny it, and make sure the problem goes away." Fierro moved back.

Veatro's breathing rate picked up as his thoughts started racing. He'd already told Fierro the whole story, had he not reported it already? Wasn't it already too late to cover it up?

"Even if I acted like I didn't remember Beins shooting me or the mission, won't my just being alive be enough of a risk for them to try again?"

Veatro continued before Fierro could answer. "And we have to go after Beins and whoever knew what he was doing. We can't let him get away with this!" Veatro scowled, wishing he could see just so he could look Fierro in the eye to make his point.

"I agree. Beins has many things to answer for. I was simply trying to make clear to you that if you go to your government with this, that won't happen." Fierro said.

Veatro blinked and sat back slightly.

"My government?" He repeated, his mouth dry.

"Yes. The Republic ordered, or at least allowed, Beins to remove you. If you go back, they won't let you live long enough to get that information out. The Republic is very fond of its spotless reputation." Fierro let out a sigh.

Veatro's breaths came fast and shallow. "You….aren't Republic." He stated flatly.

"I never said I was, Private." Fierro replied.

"Where am I?" Veatro snapped.

"Imperial Intelligence headquarters." Fierro replied.

Veatro nearly gasped in shock. He was on Dromund Kaas. He wasn't even on the planet he'd thought, let alone at a Republic base. He shut his mouth and turned his head forward, trying to hide his emotions, though he didn't stop his hands from forming fists. Obviously the reaction did not escape Fierro's notice.

"That's to your benefit, Private. Did we not just discuss what would have happened to you if you'd ended up in Republic hands?" Fierro said pointedly. Veatro's shoulders slumped. Fierro was an enemy, but he was also probably right. There was a silence as Fierro apparently waited for his words to sink in, or for Veatro to speak again. When he did not Fierro took the initiative as he walked around the base of the bed again.

"So, Private, here you are. A Republic trooper who assassinated a potential ally…I'm sure I don't need to explain what position that puts you in with us." Fierro had moved up to the right side of the bed now and was leaning on it; Veatro leaned slightly away from him. "However, your situation is unique. You've been betrayed by your command, and are by no means going to get…justice, with them. We, however, share your issue with Beins. He is, afterall, the one really responsible for killing General Harris and derailing our talks with his government. So we share a goal, Private. We would like to stop Beins from committing any further crimes against the Empire, and you would like to see him punished for his crime against you, and likely other Republic personnel." Fierro had moved off again. Veatro furrowed his brow. This conversation was not going where he'd expected.

"So you see we can help each other, Pollerman. You know what Beins looks like and have the details of his mission to kill General Harris, which we release in order to set back SIS efforts against us as they deal with covering their…misconduct. You also have information on Republic deployments. And you have a vested interest in seeing Beins and his kind stopped." Fierro was back by the bed, sitting by the sound of his voice. "And we have the resources to give you back your sight."

Veatro's breath caught in his throat. His automatic response was to yell at Fierro some trite speech about never betraying the Republic, but he didn't. If he did, he doubted Fierro would make the offer again. Veatro didn't need to be told what would happen to him then. And what did he owe the Republic anyway? Fierro was right, Beins hadn't acted on his own. Hell, Mosley might have even known. He'd said something about loaning Beins his men before, what had happened to them? The SIS would cover for Beins, regardless. Veatro knew how politics worked after 6 years in the military. They'd do whatever they had to to protect themselves; one trooper's life wasn't worth the trouble. And all that was academic anyway; Veatro wasn't in the Republic. He was on Dromund Kaas, in Intelligence's own headquarters. If he wanted to live, he had no choice except to deal. Veatro tilted his head forward slightly and swallowed.

"So if I cooperate with you…"


	3. Chapter 3

"Transferred starting when?"

"As soon as I can be packed, it seems. The Academy begins in two weeks, so I guess I've no choice but to be there by then." Chaunri adjusted his position so he could speak clearly into the holo while unscrewing the small panel on the side of the prototype stealth belt Dr. Harvey had designed and asked Chaunri to put together.

"You're already trained, though. They're sending you to the Academy?"

"I'm trained in our protocols, not theirs. I understand it won't be the full program. I guess they have some special program for situations like this."

"Are you going to come home first?"

"Sorry mum, I won't have time. I have to finish out the week here and by then I won't have time to fly home and be back to Dromund Kaas for orientation." Chaunri smiled at the disappointed sound his mother made and offered some placations and promises for the next break he had, whenever that might be. She repeated well wishes and reminders multiple times before she was satisfied and he closed the holo to go back to focusing his assignment. He wanted to finish this tonight for Dr. Harvey so he could pack tomorrow.

Chaunri adjusted the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he crossed the lobby floor to the desk. A young looking human man, apparently P. Wallace by his name tag, was sitting at the desk and only glanced up without slowing his typing when Chaunri stopped at the desk. Chaunri cleared his throat and smiled.

"Excuse me."

The man gave an irritated twitch at the corner of his mouth but did stop his clicking and looked up. "Reporting in?"

"You guessed it." Chaunri handed his paperwork to the clerk who looked it over critically for a moment. "Everything seems to be in order." The man touched his screen and whipped through some text boxes with practiced speed.

"You've been added to the system. Here-" The man poked something. "is your temporary pass code. It only has one use before you'll have to set up your own code, so preferably just do it now so you don't forget and then I'll have to deal with Security to get you in. Don't make that happen." The man sighed as he swiveled his chair around to grab a paper from the printer, which he then slid across the desk to Chaunri."Absolutely not." Chaunri frowned overly seriously, nodding gravely. The man ignored him. "You're in suite 12-19." And with that statement he closed the occupant screen and went back to whatever he'd been typing before without another glance over the desk at Chaunri, who was bringing up the login information he'd just been sent on his holo.

"Thanks," Chaunri said automatically as he picked up the paper and started towards the elevators. The paper reiterated what the man had said, had his temporary pass code, and bolded instructions to shred the paper once its instructions has been completed under penalty of blah blah Chaunri stopped reading and made a slight face. Intelligence had in no way been in his plan when he'd joined the Ascendency's engineering program. He designed weapon mods and built security programs. Of course Intelligence needed people to do those things as well but Chaunri failed to see why he couldn't have continued to do his work from Csilla, the Ascendency traded technology and information with the Empire. There was no need to trade personnel. But some exchange program had been initiated and so here he was, waiting for the elevator doors to open to the 12th floor.

There was no sound to indicate that his stop had been reached, and the doors slid open in a silent, smooth motion. The building was certainly well maintained. The security systems in the Intelligence Personnel Housing building rivalled that of the Citadel, to which it was attached by a pair of enclosed walkways with secured doors on both ends. Chaunri would not be able to use that path however. Only Ciphers, Minders (although they did not reside in IPH) Watchers and of course Keeper and the Minister (both of whom also did not reside at IPH) had security clearance for that. Chaunri would have to exit the building and enter the Citadel from the outside, going through all the hassle of the Security check-ins each time. The trials of being an alien transfer who wasn't even classified as a full Agent were real. He also did not have permissions to live outside of IPH, in the city. Not that he really wanted to. He wasn't familiar with the city, best to at least be close to work for now. He'd only had to be in training for 6 months as his professional skills were already qualified, he'd just had to go through Imperial protocol and "inculturation" training. Welcome to the Empire. The housing was free at least, as long as it was required. So his entire, unimpressive though it was, paycheck was going into his bank account.

Chaunri reached his room and slid his newly activated keycard through the slot and keyed in the pass code he'd picked. He heard the lock click and pushed the door open. The room was brightly lit and loud music was pounding in his ears the moment the door opened. A fakely tanned woman with obviously dyed red braids was sitting on a couch in the shared section of the suite (i.e. the kitchen/living room) and she looked up from the datapad in her hand at the movement. Chaunri gave her a large grin. He was always quick with a warm greeting, though now it mentally threw him back into his recent Intel training. "A facade of overblown congeniality can make you appear to be less of a threat due to the appearance of low intelligence blah blah", well his wasn't fake, but he hoped that didn't mean he was also stupid.

"Hi. You must be the roomie." He let the door pull itself closed behind him as he stood on the rug and spoke over the beat. The woman nodded minimally. She was human, although she had some sort of cybernetic on the left side of her head that showed slightly on her cheek. Chaunri squinted, it was a combo radio/holo device from the look of it. She leaned over and turned the music down.

"Hey. I'm Racquel. The far room is mine. I don't cook so do what you want with the kitchen." She nodded as she spoke, indicating her door.

"I'm Chaun'rieth'mur. Chaunri. Sounds good." He responded. He was trying to get a read on her. She wasn't exactly friendly but didn't seem hostile either. He hadn't been sure what to expect. He hadn't known who his roommate would be and assumed they hadn't been informed either. He'd found that some Imperials had an immediate negative reaction to meeting Chiss.

"You got a problem with Archangel?" She asked. Chaunri shook his head. "No, I like them."

"Cool." She turned the music back up and slid herself back onto the sofa, adjusting her gray, standard issue hoodie before resting her head on her hand again in the same position he'd found her at first.

Chaunri took the hint that she wasn't in the mood for an extended chat. Bonding would have to wait. He passed her to the opposite room and opened the door, which required a code which took him a moment to set up. This door also automatically pulled itself closed behind him, mildly shutting out the music. Chaunri tapped the light and looked around. It wasn't large but it was a big step up from the Academy barracks. He set his bag down on the bed and went to login to the computer; he wanted to make sure everything was in order. All the software he would supposedly need for his work were supposed to be loaded and his access should be ready to be verified. To his surprise it was. Well, Intelligence was efficient at least. Chaunri signed back out and quickly unpacked the few items he'd brought. Most things were "provided". The closet had uniforms already hanging, there were basics in the bathroom, spare sheets, heck even paper clips and tape on the desk. Intel took care of its people. It just made it difficult for them to _be_ people. The forms he'd had to sign for each personal item he'd wanted to bring were enough to fill a couple boxes, he was sure. And people said the Chiss were the strict ones. Muffled voices from the main room drew his attention and he opened the door and leaned out.

"-took another two freaking hours to complete because of that. I thought I'd never-. Oh. This must be the new suite mate. I see." A woman Chaunri didn't know was standing just inside the doorway speaking to Racquel.

"Yup." Racquel nodded and went towards her own room, expertly punching in her code and ducking, one leg still in the main room to hold the door, as she apparently looked for something.

"Hi. I'm Chaunri. You're…?" Chaunri skipped using his full name this time.

"Agent Kennedy. A Chiss eh? How's DK treating you? Not too warm for your cold blood is it?" The woman crossed her arms, and Chaunri mentally sighed. He was out-going, but the last few months at the academy had instilled a wariness of humans that was fast dampening his warm demeanor.

"Leave 'im alone Jay. If he made it through the Academy he's a competent one." Racquel returned, hopping slightly as she pulled on her second shoe. Chaunri gave her a sideways look. Some defense.

"It's rather drab, actually. And your people call our planet frigid." Chaunri shivered exaggeratedly. Kennedy frowned but said nothing further. "Going out?" He directed his question to Racquel.

"Yup. Like I said, I don't cook. Don't touch the drinks, I bought those. Anything else is free game. They stock the place with nutrient bars every so often." Racquel grabbed a second jacket to pull over her hoodie and opened the door for the pair of women to leave. Chaunri was reminded by this that he was getting hungry too. He took a look around the kitchen after they'd gone. There were nutrient bars, and the fridge contained a messy stack of bottles of various flavors and "nutritional value". Chaunri took a bar and started looking on his holo for local restaurants. He didn't cook either. There was a cafeteria of sorts in the building but he felt an intense urge to be out of the place for the moment. He was still scrolling down the list as he pulled on his jacket and started down the hallway, half eaten bar in the other hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Roe adjusted her collar as she stepped off the elevator onto the ops floor of the 'd been an Agent for one year today, so she supposed it was some sort of special occasion. A lot of people didn't live that long. Now she was up to "likely to survive to year five", after that her odds dropped again. Of course her odds might be off. The "benefits" of family connections had been she'd gotten more missions than most. Well, she'd had the training, she felt confident she could handle anything and so far she had. And she'd better. Those benefits also came with expectations and responsibilities. She'd already disappointed her parents with her choice to join Intelligence over the Military. If she wasn't able to be a proper Pureblood Sith due to her lack of force sensitivity she could at least be a general or moff. Or that was their opinion on the matter. She hated the Military; too controlled. Not that Intel was at all LESS intense, but at least with Intelligence there was the chance of getting solo jobs. She'd only have to report in every other week or so, not be constantly under direct supervision. So she'd thrown herself into her training and excelled, getting exactly what she wanted. She was a full Agent right out of the Academy. Not a fixer, not a specialist, not some analyst, a proper agent. She would be able to have relative freedom. And if her work took her away from the Capital and her family, well, so much the better for all concerned. She told herself that her dedication had been the main reason she'd gotten her position, not her parents. That's what she told herself.

"Reporting for briefing, Watcher." Roe flopped into the empty chair next to her currently assigned watcher, not even waiting for the woman to greet her. Watcher 21 nodded in acknowledgement of her presence and started talking. Roe listened, but she knew she'd be getting a full write up and so her mind soon wandered. She could remember the first time she'd sat in this chair. How stiff she'd been, how strong her desire to please. Even at the time she'd hated herself for it. It reminded her too much of being a child, of trying so desperately to please her family, to move a rock without touching it even just a centimeter...well no amount of wanting it had caused her to become force sensitive. Naturally, realizing she was never going to measure up, she rebelled. All through her early teens she was resentful and angry, watching her siblings and cousins be sent off to the Sith Academy, a place she would never be allowed. Then the talk of the Military. She rebelled against that too. No sir, not for her. She chose Intelligence. And what happened when she got in? Her parents took the socially acceptable route and publicly talked up her choice. She'd serve the Empire exceptionally. She'd become a Cipher, she'd be Keeper, hell, someday she would be the Minister. She buckled. Just having her family boasting about her a little and she was ready to fulfil their wishes exactly. She pushed and pushed herself; the model student. The model agent. A year ago. Not anymore.

No matter where you go, no matter what you do, some things never changed. The Empire was the Empire. The Sith ruled. How many missions had she seen fail because of Sith interference? How many people lost their jobs, or more likely their lives, taking the fall for Sith mistakes and arrogance? How many competent people; friends, had she seen murdered by Sith? Murder was the only word for it. It wasn't "discipline". It wasn't "order". It wasn't even "execution". Sith were monsters. And she'd wanted to be one.

"-Any questions?" Watcher 21 looked up from her console. Roe snapped her eyes up to meet the woman's and smiled.

"You should wish me happy anniversary you know."

Watcher 21 blinked once. "Anniversary?"

"I've been active for one year. Today." Roe stated.

"Active? Oh. Congratulations." 21 was being sincere, if reserved. Roe softened her expression. The Empire wasn't all bad. It was the sith who were the problem.

"Thank you." She got up and pushed the chair in. "Emperor willing I'll see you in a week or so."

"Good luck, agent." 21 nodded.

Roe dropped her bags on the hallway floor as she punched in her access code and pushed the door open, roughly sliding one of the bags into place as a doorstop while she bent to pick up the others. Home again, what a treat. Well, not home. Her apartment at Intel. If she' truly been going home she'd have been far less relaxed. She glanced up as she heard whistling coming down the hall.

"Good evening," A chiss man nodded and smiled as he walked past.

"Good night," Roe replied as she finished awkwardly backing into her room with her bags, pulling the last from the path of the door allowing it to slide shut. Home sweet home indeed. IPH wasn't cozy, but it was comfortable in that it had all the amenities. Roe was looking forward to a proper evening of relaxing after her shower. She could unpack her bags tomorrow. Roe turned her head sharply at the knock. She jerked the door back open; it was the Chiss man who had just walked by.

"Hi." He gave another friendly smile.

"Hello." Roe eyed him curiously.

"Mind if I duck in for a moment? I'm trying to avoid some people." He tilted his head to the right, apparently indicating the approaching voices. Roe hesitated a moment, she didn't know this person at all, but then she admired that'd he'd just come straight out and said what he was doing, and was rather amused by it. Roe admitted openly to herself that she liked to get involved with things that weren't her business. Besides, in this case he'd asked to involve her.

"Knock yourself out." She opened the door wider and stepped out of the way as he darted in.

"Thanks!" He said once the door was shut.

"No problem. Who are we avoiding?" Roe asked as she kicked her bags more out of the way. She gestured for the man to have a seat on the sofa, which he did.

"You know Tamir Laverin or Ameli Vrosc?" He asked.

"Nope, never heard of them." Roe flopped on the chair by the sofa and began struggling with her skin tight uniform boots.

"No reason you should have I guess. Just a couple agents who don't like aliens." He said it right out. Roe eyed him.

"You're having issues with xenophobic assholes and asked to hide in a pureblood's room?" She paused and gave him a look.

"Never judge a book by its cover, you let me in didn't you? And you just called them assholes so I guess you can't be too agreeable to their opinions." He smiled. It was cute. Roe dropped her boot on the floor and began on the other.

"No I don't, not that it makes much difference what I think."

"Does to me, got me out of the hallway. Name's Chaun'rieth'mur, but you can call me Chaunri. You are?"

"Roeamara Tanteo. Roe." She dropped the other boot and gave Chaunri another once over. He looked young, but she wasn't that familiar with Chiss so she couldn't be sure.

"Nice to meet you, Roe." His accent wasn't quite Imperial or Chiss, Roe wondered where he'd picked it up.

"So what sort of trouble do they give you? There are rules, despite the Empire's general attitudes. You could report them." Roe said.

"Oh they don't do anything that serious. Just dampens my mood to have to deal with them, interferes with my relaxed evening." He flashed another teasing smile. Roe smirked in return. She understood the sentiment. There were a lot of things that ruined her relaxed evenings that she couldn't do anything about.

"So how long have you been here Chaunri? I'm usually working on world, and I haven't seen you before." She leaned back as she pulled off her uniform jacket.

"I've only been here a couple weeks. I was at the Academy for 6 months, I'm just a fixer. I was trained in the Ascendency so I didn't have to go through the full program." He anticipated her question.

"How'd you end up in Intel?" Roe asked.

"Not my first choice frankly. An exchange program and I got tapped. Couldn't really say no easily. I hope to get back in a couple years." Roe snorted. "Good luck." Chuanri took her attitude in stride.

"You don't seem particularly enamored, how'd you wind up in Intel?" he returned. She eyed him levelly. He seemed quite open about himself but she wasn't so ready to share.

"Let's just say I've come to appreciate the job's flaws. Not that you should repeat that to anyone, or say any such thing yourself." Roe added with a sudden touch of concern.

"Oh, I've been warned about Minders don't worry." Chaunri referred to the Intel boogymen department. Minders made sure everyone was in line and on board with the Empire's ideals. That is if you weren't you would be 'talked to'. In practice it wasn't really that bad, it couldn't be or Intel couldn't function. But the Minders didn't try to downplay their less than friendly reputation. Roe wasn't quite referring to anything that serious but let the matter drop with a sigh.

"Sorry, I'm not being a good host. It's been a long week."

"Well I did stop in rather unexpectedly. I'm sure they've gone by now, I'll get out of your way and let you relax." Chaunri stood. He was short. Roe got up and extended her hand. Chaunri took it and shook.

"Nice to meet you, Chaunri. If you need to duck outta the halls my door is always open." Roe said, and meant it. Chaunri grinned. "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind. Or if I need to get away from my room mate's passion for music." Roe returned the grin. "That's fine too."


	5. Chapter 5

p id="docs-internal-guid-b66e104a-019f-8c33-792c-f36269937457" dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Veatro slammed the bathroom cabinet shut and concentrated on the medication bottle in his hand. He avoided glancing in the mirror. He avoided mirrors as much as possible now. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Seven months. That's how long it had been since he'd woken up in Imperial Intelligence. In that time he'd had major surgeries to reconstruct parts of his face and give him back something like eyesight, he'd spilled everything he'd ever known about the Republic military to Imperial spies, and gone through a six month training course with the Imperial Intelligence Academy. He was a specialist now; a sniper for the Empire. He'd just finished his fifth mission yesterday-another successful assassination. He wondered if he took enough of these pills-he quickly reconcentrated on something mundane. Dinner. He still had some chips and drinks left from his last grocery run. They'd have to do, he wasn't going out. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Veatro replaced the bottle in the cabinet and accidentally got a glimpse of himself in the mirror this time. He hated his reflection. He hated the cybernetics, and there was just so damn much of them. He felt like more a machine than human now. The eyes put him off the most. He was seeing, with them, seeing himself and yet…. It was so strange. He'd gone through specialized classes to get used to the different overlays that these enhanced eyes could "display" directly to his brain. At first he'd hated them and tried to use the "basic", normal vision but he soon found it the most chilling. There was something about it that was too sharp, too fast. He'd settled instead on a "channel" that showed him heat signatures overlaid on normal vision. It was somehow comforting. He could pretend he was wearing some specialized goggles or something, not that this was what "his" eyes were really showing him. It put a distance between himself and the world around him, a world that was foreign and felt hostile. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Of course Veatro didn't really know what people thought of him, if they thought of him at all. His story wasn't classified or anything, and in fact had been used to cause some scandal in Republic media at the time it happened, but here on Dromund Kaas, months later… He took comfort in the fact he seemed irrelevant and thus effectively invisible to his fellow Intelligence personnel. He felt like he wanted to disappear anyway. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Imperial Intelligence had mental fitness vetting, and reasonably Veatro shouldn't have passed, but the man in charge of Veatro's "case" felt it best to let him work through his issues or let him have his breakdown and get killed on a mission or executed for some misconduct. Less paperwork than having someone executed for being "unfit". And when he'd first come there had been a lot of pressure from the higher ups to keep him around. If he went missing just a few weeks after ending up an Imperial it would've put a damper on the whole "Republic bad, Empire good!" spin of their story. Veatro couldn't just be discharged from Intelligence either; they couldn't have a Republic 'defector' wandering around loose. Especially one who hadn't intentionally defected. As a former Republic officer he was a "risk" as an Intelligence agent, but with risks come possibly high rewards. Best to wait and see if he could become an asset. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"So Veatro Pollerman was made an Imperial sniper with clearance for low profile, low risk missions with oversight. He was unaware of the finer points of his status. /span/p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;" /p  
p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"As it was he performed his duty admirably. He was a trained soldier, now that discipline was reinforced by Imperial training. He was already an excellent shot, and with his "enhancements" he was perfect. Mission after mission, not a single miss. Not even a close call. Months passed, and Veatro was declared "stable" by his case manager. It wasn't true, but then he was as stable as many Imperial Agents. The job tended to wear people down. If depression or even just job dissatisfaction were disqualifiers the halls of Imperial Intelligence would be all but deserted. He was as fit as he was going to get, his service record was impeccable, and he didn't mind dying for the mission-or maybe just dying, but either way- a true asset. /span/p 


End file.
